


G is for Galu

by KateKintail



Series: The ABC Series 2006 [7]
Category: Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Common Cold, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 01:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateKintail/pseuds/KateKintail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As if it were not humiliating enough for King Thranduil Oropherion to find himself with a cold, he was devastated to realize his young son had caught it from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	G is for Galu

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a collection of short H/C ficlets (they were supposed to be drabbles but I'm terrible at writing short things) from various fandoms. I asked on one of my LiveJournals for one word for each letter of the alphabet, as well as a fandom and/or pairing.

As if it were not humiliating enough for King Thranduil Oropherion to find himself with a cold, he was devastated to realize his young son had caught it from him. This was part understandable, considering the two had been alone with each other for days now on the cold journey from Rivendell. But that did not make it easier to contend with.   
  
Thranduil glanced down at Legolas, riding his own horse. The young elfling had a good seat and excellent form for one his age. Though his skill was somewhat affected by a barrage of symptoms that he freely displayed, unlike his father. As such, their progress was slower than it should have been. And though Thranduil longed to be back in the comforts of his home, he did not want to seem as though he were rushing them. Legolas seemed miserable enough as it was.   
  
Legolas snapped forward in his seat with a sneeze, followed directly by plenty of coughing. Thranduil silently cleared his own throat before speaking. "Galu."   
  
Legolas rubbed the handkerchief his father had given him at his nose and looked up curiously. "Adar?" He had never heard the word before, and did not understand its use. "Pardon?"  
  
Thranduil nearly smiled, as he remembered that this was Legolas' first cold. "It is a blessing, said whenever another elf sneezes."   
  
"Ah," Legolas said with a nod. "Thank you."   
  
They rode onward, sitting elegantly in their saddles through the bumps and bounces of horseback riding over somewhat rocky terrain. While Legolas looked about as the scenery passed them by, Thranduil's sights were directed straight ahead only. The land was alive, ever-changing, but the changes were too gradual to bother noticing, and he knew the trip so well for all his years. All his energy was invested, instead, upon staying alert to possibly dangers and upon resisting the urges of his cold. As aware as he was of every tree they passed and of every bird stirring the leaves of a tree, he was aware of his malady working against him. He frequently, silently, cleared his throat and inhaled slowly but strongly through his nose as much as he could when it ran. He clenched his teeth tightly and held his breath when compelled to cough or, worse still, sneeze. For as loathe as he was to have anyone know he was sick, he was even more concerned about his son perceiving him to be in a weakened state. And so he even went as far as to muffle an occasional escaped cough into his arm or to pinch the bridge of his nose when he felt a most powerful sneezing coming on.   
  
"Ada, *why* is it customary to bless someone after a sneeze?" Legolas asked so suddenly that Thranduil nearly gave up a sneeze to surprise.   
  
As it was, he had to pinch his nose for nearly one full, torturous minute before he felt able to reply. "Elves rarely fall ill. But it is said that such illness lies within Middle Earth, not with the Valar. Many go as far as to relate it to mortality itself, though it is unusual for an elf to suffer anything even remotely that serious. The blessing is to remind us of where we are from and who we are meant to be."   
  
"Ah," Legolas said again with understanding. Then he snapped forward again with another sneeze. He scrubbed his nose with the back of his hand and then drew his blonde hair back from his face with a sweep of his hand. He looked up expectantly to see his father nod towards him.  
  
"Galu, iÃ´n nin." Legolas beamed and nodded back.  
  
They rode quietly, apart from audible sniffles from the younger elf. Thranduil played out the possibilities of their return in his mind. He greatly desired a rest and knew some herbal tea he should have; Lord Elrond was not the only elf in Middle Earth with some skill in healing. It was, in fact, impossible to live so long with occasional suffering and not pick up something on the subject. But he knew he would be needed immediately in his throne room to discuss matters which had arisen over the last few days, whether they be resolved or unresolved.   
  
Another small, weak, freely-given sneeze rent the silence and Thranduil did a quick assessment of his son's condition: no worse but certainly no better. "Galu," he said. Above his responsibilities to himself and above his ruling of Mirkwood, came his concern for his son. He would see Legolas into his bedroom in the underground palace, and would tuck him into bed, had he a choice over his actions. And, as king, he could fathom no reason that he could not make such a decision.   
  
Another sneeze struck, but this time from Thranduil. He had pinched his nose and held his breath. He had even closed his eyes tightly to the urges. But nothing at all had helped this time. And he knew it was not always possible to be helped; such was the nature of a cold. Nonetheless, he hated himself for letting the sneeze out, even though it was half restrained and followed only by a single sniffle.   
  
Legolas looked up, the same young, curious expression on his face as he had had when Thranduil had spoken the unknown word. "Was that a sneeze?" he asked, cocking his head.   
  
Thranduil disliked lying more than he disliked looking ill. "It was, in fact."  
  
"Then Galu," Legolas said cheerfully, as though the blessing alone could offer the sort of healing and comfort need.   
  
Though, in a way, perhaps it did. Legolas could understand his current misery first-hand, and yet offered the word with tones of innocent cheerfulness and caring. It made him smile slightly, pleasantly. He looked down at Legolas and gave another nod. "Thank you."


End file.
